Operation: Heal Percabeth
by irl be there in a heartbeat
Summary: Alexis Jackson had the perfect life; two loving parents, and a huge house that never seemed empty. It all seemed too beautiful to be wrecked- until one Friday afternoon. Now, eight years older, she's determined to find her father and make things right between him and her mother, before life takes its own toll and she's forced to face a mortal stepfather.
1. Chapter 1

I always thought that my parents were hopelessly, helplessly, madly in love. There were pictures and posters of them plastered all across Olympus, announcing their marriage and the birth of their "beautiful baby girl" (which, as you may have caught on by now, is me.) My name is Alexis Jackson, and this is the story of how I got my parents back together (more or less).

I was born in the beautiful city of New York, with its acidic gas and polluted rivers and bloodthirsty gangs. No, really, when I say bloodthirsty gangs, I _mean_ it. The Furies are scattered all over the place, disguised as a hot dog vender, a homeless person, even a sixth grade teacher called Mrs Dodds.

But don't get me wrong. I love New York, and all its dangerous, glorious beauty. My dad wanted me to go to Camp Half-Blood once I turned five, but my mom didn't think I was ready yet. They both thought that sending me there would only make me regret having a family, but that isn't the case, because I loved it there. The fresh water springs and Aunt Juniper, a green-skinned, flawless Naiad would always lighten the place up with beautiful flowers and exotic smells, like coconut or the candyfloss machines I used to pass in Montauk.

I had the perfect family. I had a perfect life, and I even got what I wanted most of the time. I was well behaved, took my pocket money in sections, even donated a few drachma's to the Camp Counseller. I didn't know that my whole life would take a turn for the worst in just one day.

I was eight when it happened. Enrolled in a mortal school, a huge smile plastered across my face, and a small bag slung over my shoulder. I remember wearing the biggest smile, because it was Friday and Bethany asked me to come over.

The atmosphere around the house was eerily creepy when I came home. No music, not even my mom sitting on the porch reading a book, waiting for me to come home so she could give me the biggest hug on earth. She'd kiss me on the forehead and tell me that she wanted to know every single detail about my day, then my dad would come out of the house with a cheeky grin on his face. They'd both pull me inside and give me blue cookies and dyed blue lemonade, their arms around each other, smiling as they looked proudly down at their little girl.

This time, I was mistaken.

Because this time, there were no blue cookies. There was no dyed blue lemonade. There was no "mom on the porch reading a book". There certainly wasn't a cheeky grin on my dads face. There were no proud smiles, no happiness. Nothing.

I entered the house and a waft of tension found its way to me. I dropped my bag and didn't even bother to lock the front door. I ran to the living room and saw a blue suitcase zipped and full of clothes, just lying there, staring at me with solemn eyes. I remembered that suitcase. It was the one my dad brought with him when we went on the trip to the Underworld, to visit Uncle Nico.

So what was it doing there, lying in the middle of the living room floor? Where was my suitcase, and moms? Was he going by himself? Was Uncle Nico in trouble?

"Alex!"

I spun around to meet the eyes of my mother, Annabeth Chase. There were tears- terrible, awful droplets of salty water- in her eyes. She had tears on her cheeks, travelling to her neck.

"Mom?" I said. I ran to her open arms and buried my face in her jumper, smelling the sweet scent of peppermint and strawberries. "What's going on? Where's dad?"

"Right here." His voice was rough, like stone rubble. He had tears in his eyes as well. I tried to make out any other emotion he held on his face, but there was none except for sadness and regret. "Give me a hug, babygirl."

So I did. And I couldn't help but notice the small tug of my mothers hand as she silently begged me not to.

The hug my father gave me was a strong one. I didn't know what to say. It was as if he couldn't bear to let me go.

"What's going on, dad?" I murmured. "Where are you going?"

He said nothing. I didn't say anything after that.

"Alexis," my mothers voice quivered. "Come." I pulled away from my father and watched as he shot a helpless look at my mother, a look that would've broken my heart if I knew what it meant at the time.

"Please listen," he whispered.

Mom didn't say anything. Neither did I, because I was still trying to cling on to the fact that she was upset.

"I'll send you the rest of your stuff tommorow." she said, sternly.

"Ann-"

"And the divorce will the filed next week."

_Divorce?_

"Annabeth..."

"Goodbye, Percy."

She stared at my dad with cold eyes, the look of pure grief stuck in her grey orbs. He gulped and swallowed the sob that was about to form, but shook his head and picked up his blue suitcase. He knelt down to look me in the eyes.

"Be a good girl, okay? Know that I'll always love you."

He stood up, glanced at me and my mother one last time, then walked out of the door.  
Out of our lives.  
Out of New York.  
Out of everything.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2

I guess I shouldn't complain. I mean, I've been in plenty of fights before.  
But this one was serious. I'd given Derek Gyson, a wannabe gangster with serious judgement issues, a black eye and three broken ribs.

What? It's not like I meant to.  
...Okay. I meant to.

So as I sat there, listening to Dereks unruly statement about how I practically tried to murder him, I thought of actual ways that the unknown procedure could be carried out. Knife through his heart? Too nice. Too quick, and also not entertaining.

I'm kidding. Kind of.

I went home that day to a worried female demi-god - my mom, Annabeth Jackson. Or, Chase, as she likes to call herself. She hugged me but I could tell she was still slightly dissapointed with the lack of concentration I had at Withmoore. "It's just a phase," Colonel Key had said. "She'll get over it."

Colonel Key's actual name is Thomas Keane. He served in the army as some Gun Polisher, but the way he described his job sounded like he was leading the troopes himself, unarmed. I called him Colonel once, and he liked the title, so I just went along with it. He was six foot four, with a muscular body and enough money to buy us eight cars, each. He treated me and mom like princesses, always asking about our day, what we were up to. He took my mom to Prada once, and even though she never liked expensive clothing and glittery dresses, she was still awed by the fact that his Gold plated credit card never ran out. Tom was lovely.

And I hated him to the very core.

Hey, don't blame me. Blame him, and the amount of charm he can put in a single sentence. He somehow convinced me to throw away the old clothes my dad had bought me before he left, and he even tried to convince my mom to get rid of the Yankee's cap that was given to her by Athena- Not that she did, of course. She still has it, stashed under their double bed, collecting dust.

The moment he asked me to replace the picture of my father with his own, I knew he was trying to skim his way into our lives.

_For good._

"Honey," Tom called, jogging down the stairs with a pair of pink trainers on. I raised an eyebrow.

"Nice look."

"I know," he smirked, and we both shared a look of amusement. "I might wear it on the Big Day."

The Big Day. He said it like it was nothing, like a proposal to my mom wasn't enough. I knew that he was only trying to keep it on a low profile, but still.

When I said nothing, he zipped up his hoodie and kissed my mom on the cheek. "I'll be gone for about an hour, mkay?"

She nodded. He winked at me. "Be good."

"No promises."

Tom and I got along fine. He was more like an Uncle to me than a soon to be stepfather, but I guess I can't really complain. He was the only thing I had close to a male role model.

"So," my mom started, as we both made our way into the kitchen. "Your birthday tommorow."

I groaned.

"Why the sad face?" she smiled. "What do you want to do, huh?"

Find him. I thought to myself. Find him and bring him home. "Nothing big."

"Trip to England?"

"Nah."

"Vegas?"

"Nope."

"Montauk."

There was a slight pause. My face softened at the thought of feeling the soft sand, wading through the luscious yet freezing waters of the beach. I thought about it. _What if I went, just for one day? I'll be able to find him the next day, after leaving my mom and Tom a note._ "Uh, no thanks."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "But you love going to Montauk."

"We've gone sixteen times this year, mom," I said, nervously trying to avoid eye contact. "Besides, turning sixteen isn't even a big deal anyway."

Lies.  
Ever since I was eight, I told myself everyday that once I turned sixteen, I would go and find my dad. Maybe even convince him to come home, or even better, talk to my mom. Maybe once they see each other all problems will suddenly disappear, and Colonel Gun Polisher will be out of our lives, without leaving any trace of existence.

Well, he _could _leave his VIP Access Ticket to any upcoming band tour, but I doubted that he would.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of birds.

It wasn't even the nice kind. None of them went, "Hello, Good morning, how was your sleep?" No, these birds went, "Wake up you reckless idiot!".

Not exactly the type of greeting I wanted on the morning of my sixteenth birthday, but it would have to do.

I walked into the kitchen and got instantly got attacked by the smell of pancakes cooking on the stove. I smiled and sat on the counter, dangling my legs as Tom took a sip of black coffee. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart." he said, not even bothering to look up from his morning paper. Mom spun around and grinned.

"Happy Birthday, babygirl!"

I flinched. The last person to ever call me Babygirl was my dad, and that was in the minute he left.

Mom served me blue pancakes and blue lemonade, adding extra sugar and blue whipped cream. "Thanks, mom."

"No problem." she sat net to me and brushed the hair out of my face. "No matter how old you get, always remember that you'll still be my baby, and nothing will change that."

I smiled knowingly and watched as Tom frowned slightly at the newspaper, completely oblivious to what me and my mom were talking about.

I kissed her on the cheek and finished my breakfast, before hesitantly trudging back upstairs to pack. I stood on the top of the stairs and called out, "I love you, mom."

"Love you too."

_That may be the last time you'll get to say that._

I walked into my room and started clearing out my wardrobe, deciding what a teenage girl would wear on the way to Tartarus or Olympus. While I folded my clothes and stuffed them into a purple duffle bag, I started having second thoughts.

_What if he doesn't recognize me? _You're being an idiot. He loves you.

_That was eight years ago. _So?

_You are so stubborn! _You mean we?

_Are you seriously arguing with yourself? _Shut up!

_Oh my gods, what if he's in Tartarus? _Then we'll _go _to Tartarus.

_You're crazy! _You mean we?!

_Ugh, fine. But don't blame me when you get your hopes too high and end up coming back with three broken bones! _I wouldn't blame myself!

I looked around for paper and a pen and started writing.

_Mom,  
Thanks for always being there for me. I don't know where I'm going, or what I'm going to do if things don't work out, but I'm off to find Dad.  
I know he's somewhere in New York. And, if he's not, I'll look on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building. If he's in Tartarus, even better, because then I'll have a story to tell Bethany.  
I'll come back home. I promise.  
Love you,  
Alexis. xx_

I placed the paper on my bed, made sure that the door was wide open, and climbed out of the window.

Now, where in the world would a demigod be hiding?

* * *

**Thanks for reading :) **


	3. Chapter 3

I trudged, annoyed, on the gravel floor that led to the Empire State Building. I had just been wandering some quiet streets of New York and I was _already_ about to run into Olympus like I had a right to be there.

I groaned and took a small notebook from my pocket. Scribbled inside were different people and whereabouts they lived, with the connections they had with my father. I knew where Uncle Grover lived, but he would just take me back to my mother the minute I asked him whether or not he knew where my dad was. I crossed his name off the list.

Next there was Uncle Nico. He didn't live in the Underworld- thank gods - but I wasn't really looking forward to seeing his son, Brent, because the last time we met wasn't very pretty. Spitballs were thrown, and a broken arm was the end result. I left Uncle Nico and put a question mark next to his name, deciding that his house would be the last place to visit.

The next few people didn't have a strong connection to my dad as I would have liked, so I ignored them. There was one name, though, that caught my attention.

From what I heard, she was a demigod with serious family issues.

_Clarisse La Rue._

I remembered what my mom had told me when I was thirteen, that she and my dad were thrown into the river by a laughing Clarisse and her cabin mates, the Ares kids.

I really didn't want to ask any of the Ares kids what they knew about my dad, but I didn't really have anyone else to resort to. And besides, they weren't _kids_ anymore. Maybe they've matured and finally forgot about the grudge they held against the Son Of Poseidon.

Clarisse lived in one of the self-standing-houses on the east side of Brooklyn. It took me two taxi rides to get there, but within an hour or so I was standing in front of a neat looking house with a purple duffle bag at my feet, and a stunned look on my face.

Believe it or not, but I was expecting something shabbier. Something with broken windows and broken door knobs, something where the curtains were hanging lopsided and a creepy face stared out of the window.

But this? With its beautiful front lawn and spouting water fountains, you'd never think it belonged to a daughter of Ares.

I gulped and hesitantly walked up to the doorstep, where an orange "Welcome" mat lay proudly. I was expecting bombs to go off the second I stepped on the perfectly printed lettering, but nothing did. I rang the doorbell and the muffled cry of a baby reached my hearing senses.

After a few moments, a lady answered the door. She had stress lines on her forehead, but other than that, she looked amazing. "Can I help you?"

I stared at her, stunned. "A-are you Clarisse?"

"Robinson?"

"La Rue." I answered. Her look of worry toned down just a little bit.

"Oh. Yes, yes I am." she sighed. "Are you after anything in particular?"

"Well," I started. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

She looked at me weirdly. I nearly went as red as the apron she was wearing, because it would have sounded weird to anyone. A sixteen year old girl showing up at your doorstep on a Sunday afternoon, with a shakey voice and messed up hair? I was surprised I even made it that far. "I'm Alexis," I put my hand in front of me and she shook it. "Annabeth and Percy's daughter."

Clarisse looked around the area reluctantly, probably expecting an army of water Nymphs to attack. "Jackson?" I nodded. "Look kid-"

"I just want to talk," I cut in, which I knew was a very trippy thing to do with someone like Clarisse.

She shook her head. "I don't think I can help you with anything."

"_I_ think you can," I said, helplessly.

After a pleading look, Clarisse nodded and prised the door open fully. "Come in."

Inside, the house was more beautiful than it was _outside_. Photo's of Camp Half Blood were next to the vases filled with water and flowers. Clarisse led me into the living room where three couches and an oak wood coffee table stood. The fireplace had unlit charcoal and there were several pictures on the mantelpiece- One of her holding some guys hand.

"Take a seat." she said. I obliged. She took the seat opposite me. "What did you want to talk about?"

There was a moment of silence before I finally decided to stop staring around the house. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I spoke. "Do you know where my dad is?"

I mentally slapped myself. I sounded like a kid lost in the supermarket or something, asking a cashier if they knew where my parents were. "I-I mean..."

"Oh," she said, but she didn't look mad. In fact, she looked like she almost pitied me. "I forgot that they had a divorce."

I winced. "Yeah," I started playing with the fifty dollar bracelet Tom had gotten me. "Eight years ago."

Clarisse's emotions flickered from sympathy to confusion. "Alexis, I haven't seen your parents since we left camp nineteen years ago. I didn't even keep in touch with them, let alone know what they were up to."

To be honest, I was quite surprised that she spoke so softly. This wasn't a violent, murderous teenager who hated Percy Jackson. In front of me sat a damaged woman that was trying to build herself back up, bit by bit, collecting shards of her pride along the way.

"Do you know anyone who _might _know where he is?" I pressed. "I mean, I'm not expecting you to, I just -"

She placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're babbling," she stated, a small smile on her face. "You remind me so much of your mother, Alexis."

_I babble?_

"Sorry," I murmured, my cheeks flushing pink.

Clarisse shook her head and rummaged around the bookshelves, which were filled with endless amounts of paperback novels. Finally she took out something yellow- a scrapbook.

"Here," she said, handing it to me. "Everyone at Half-Blood Camp got one on the year they left."

"A year book?"

"More like a _summer _book," she said, sitting next to me. She flicked the page. "Here is some of the signatures I got from the other cabins. You were supposed to state who you were and where you were headed after finishing Camp."

I scanned the signatures and found that some of the Aphrodite kids were going on three month long vacations to the Caribbeans, whilst the Hephaestus kids were all going to construct a mini Labyrinth in an Art Gallery somewhere in Tokyo. Clarisse pointed at a certain person signature and studied the printing with her eyes. "This is Tyson's."

I blinked.

She stared at me, bewildered. "You don't know who Tyson is?"

I shook my head. "No. Well, I've heard of him, I've just never _met _him."

Clarisse shook her head with a sad smile. "Him and Percy were inseparable back at camp, but I guess they both parted ways."

"So where does he live now?"

She pointed to his signature, which read:

_Have a good life, Daughter Of Ares.  
__I shall be in the Underwater Forges Of The Cyclops if I am needed.  
__Farewell._

"So formal," I muttered. Clarisse laughed.

"Yes, he always was."

"So uhm," I said. "Do you know where the forges are?"

Unfortunately, she sighed. "No, I don't. Even if I did I could never go there unless I was claimed by Poseidon. Nobody can except for Percy and Tyson." she glanced at me. "Have you been claimed yet?"

Ah, this. I was hoping nobody would bring this up.  
Being a daughter of two demigods- meaning that I was quarter demigod from both sides- meant that I, myself, am a demigod.  
Long story short, I'm a Half-Blood.

But I didn't have any extraordinary powers or anything. I couldn't control water or read Greek lettering. I couldn't even multiply 12 by 16 without taking a whole five minutes.

I hadn't been claimed by Athena or Poseidon. And I was _fine _with that.

"No."

"Maybe we can send him a distress call, or something." she suggested, bringing out a small pouch of drachmas. Clarisse took a deep breath. "I haven't used this since I sent an Iris Message to Luke,"

"Luke?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why send a message to _him_?"

She smirked. "_Someone _had to tell him he was an idiot."

"Couldn't that _someone _have sent a text message?"

"That _someone _thought using an IM was much more effective," she dropped the pouch onto my lap. "There. I don't need them anymore."

I was shocked. "Why are you-"

"Helping?" she interrupted. I nodded. "My father was a rotten biker who cared more for the boys," she said. "You've got a dad that loves you, Alexis. And I don't want you to end up like me, regretting that he ever existed."

_Must be hard, _I thought. _Ares being a greek god and all. You can't really wish him dead._

"Thanks, Clarisse." I smiled.

"Don't mention it."

I was about to hand her back the book when she closed my fingers around it. "Keep it. You never know when something like that will come in handy."

* * *

Between the frantic phone calls, and the non-stop texts, I barely had any time to decipher where I was going. I munched on a granola bar on the way to a quiet park I knew a little bit uptown. It had a small fountain that most people didn't even look at, and I was pretty sure there'd be no people there now.

I threw a drachma into the fountain and tried reaching my dad, first. It had a low connection, and after two seconds it disconnected and Iris disappeared. I tried again, but the same thing happened. I wanted to keep trying, but thought it stupid to waste the drachma's on something like that.

So then I tried contacting Tyson- or Uncle Tyson.

_Uncle Tyson. _I mentally scolded myself. Why hadn't I thought of him before?

The Iris message sparked and the water in the fountain bubbled. I gulped and saw that he was lounging next to some other people, but something about them seemed very strange.

I squinted. I was kind of a demigod, sure, but the Mist was still able to manipulate my view on things. Clarisse could have had snakes for hair and I wouldn't have noticed.

"Hello?" someone said, and I looked closer to see a man with shaggy hair in the Iris Message. I couldn't bring myself to look directly at him.

Then, after a few moments, I spoke.

"Are you Tyson?"

_You stupid little... _I was shouting at myself. _Why would he pick up if he wasn't Tyson?! _Uncle Tyson. _Whatever!_

The man nodded. "Yes I am. Who are you?"

"I-I'm Alexis Jackson," I said. "Percy's daughter."

His eyes widened, and that's when I saw it.

His _eyes _didn't widen.

But his _eye _did.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :D**


	4. Chapter 4

I grew up not knowing the truth about myself. I'd talk on and on and on about how a magical fairy visited me at midnight and told me that I was her long lost sister and that she was supposed to take me back and that- well, you get the point. The only problem was that sometimes, the stories became so vivid, and so realistic, that I actually thought them true.

This time, I was not imagining a magical fairy. I wasn't even _imagining _anything.

"Your Percy's daughter?" Uncle Tyson asked, squinting at the Iris Message. I nodded and was suddenly lost for words. "You're my niece!"

"Who's your niece?" a faint voice could be heard in the background.

"Her! C'mon guys, look!"

Within a few seconds I was surrounded by fascinated Cyclops, prodding my face through the IM. I smiled awkwardly. "So what brings you here, niece?" he asked, a wide smile on his face. "And what's your name?"

"Alexis." I said, though I was still kind of gobsmacked by the fact that I was _related _to Uncle Tyson. We looked nothing alike. Well, obviously, I had two orbs whilst he had _one._ "And, I was kinda wondering if you knew where my dad was. Or if he left a trace of where he was headed."

Uncle Tyson frowned and toyed around with some scrap metal he was holding in his hand. The other Cyclops departed and went back to tinkering with weapons and Armour accessories.

"I can't say I have," he sighed. "Percy and I... We talk still, not as much as Uncle Tyson here would like, but we talk."

"When was your last conversation?" I asked, softly. I could already tell that he wasn't the kind to snap or yell or get angry easily.

"A year ago," he answered.

"Through an Iris Message?"

"No," I felt a little disappointed. "I saw him on the way to-"

Suddenly the Iris Message wavered. I tossed another drachma into the fountain but it didn't work - the IM was gone, and so was the information I needed.

I cursed silently, snatching the drachma out of the fountain. "Oh goddess, accept my... offering?" I muttered, not knowing exactly what to say.

I threw the coin back into the fountain but nothing happened. I frowned. "Iris," I pleaded. "C'mon, I _need _you to at least-"

Suddenly I was thrown back. An explosion in the far distance could be heard, along with a painful sound of huge footprints slapping against the wet mud. The trees rustled and the wind blew in every direction, refusing to stay calm.

Lightning scorched a tree next to me and the trunk split in half. Luckily, the tree itself fell the opposite direction, but it was enough motivation to get me moving. I tripped over a couple of twigs and broken branches, spraining my ankle in the process. I could feel the harsh weather biting at the scratches I was getting by running into so many trees.

Behind me, I could hear a growling sound. It was an unpleasant noise that would have terrified the living daylight out of me, if I had been any closer.

I could see a building a few blocks away from where I was, generating a new form of hope. "Come on," I hissed. "Just a few more-"

The creature behind me roared. I spun around in alarm- and that's when I saw it.

It's claws were long, sharp talons that stretched from twenty-five to thirty centimeters, and it's head was bigger than its body. It had horns and pointy ears. The body was as large and buff as a Minotaur, the head bulging from every space possible.

_Woah, _I thought. _Someone's been working out._

It lunged at me and I had just enough time to get out of the way. I landed, much to my annoyance, on the hood of an 87 Cadillac. My back hit the window wiper and I groaned, finally slipping to the floor.

My vision was blurry and my hands felt too weak to lift my whole body up- but I tried.  
And failed.

As soon as I stood up, the Minotaur-Man-Bodybuilder creature lifted me up by the leg and threw me against the wall of a building. My head was the first thing to hit the cold brick, blood trickling down my cheek. I grabbed my bag and pushed myself out of the way.

The Minotaur was still looking for me, its nostrils flaring as it tried to track my scent.

Inside the duffle bag I pulled out a small silver gun.

"This should only be used in emergencies," I remembered my mom say. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Tom was out. He never tolerated weapons in the house anyway (even the kitchen knives were in protected silicone wrappers). The gun came with a small transparent sack filled with celestial bronze bullets.

I shoved some bullets into the gun and slung the duffle bag over my shoulder, proceeding to hide from the Minotaur.

Quietly, I crouched and tiptoed around the monster, the small gun clutched tightly in both of my hands. Mom's words, _Sometimes, you should shoot before you aim. In life or death situations, it could come in handy._

So that's exactly what I did. I sprung from the tree, but the Minotaur already knew I was there. It grabbed me by the waist and smothered the gun against my hip, engraving a skin mark on my pelvis. _Great, _I thought. _Add that to the list of things I'll never get fixed._

The monster let out a loud, unpredictable groan and opened its mouth to drop me in. Once it loosened it's fingers, I whipped out the gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet landed on the edge of the Minotaur's lip. I gulped, thinking that it would just shake it off and continue turning me into a full course human meal. Instead, the monster disintegrated into powder and I was left to fall face first into the dry dirt.

I passed out, the gun still in my hand.

* * *

_"I dare you to raise your voice at me again!"_

_"Okay then! I wish that I never-"_

_My mom fell to the floor as Tom looked up with a horrified expression. His hand had just collided with my mothers cheek- and the sound of flesh hitting flesh made me cringe. "Annabeth..."_

_"You're a monster," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. Her voice quivered, her stance not so confident. There was a big red handprint on her cheek, which I knew would leave a purple bruise. "Grover was right. I should have never-"_

_"Shut up," Tom snapped. His voice was lower than normal, eyes glazed over with hatred. "I've given you and that brat of yours the best two years of your lives and _this _is how you repay me?!"_

_"I wasn't flirting with him!" yelled my mother. "Is it wrong to have a conversation with a man I've known longer than I've known you?!"_

_Tom snarled. "There are certain rules in this house that you don't know of," he said, calm enough, even thought here was an edge to his voice._

_"Then enlighten me," said my mom sarcastically._

_He grabbed her right arm and yanked it forward. "You're mine. And you are _not _allowed to talk to other men without my permission."_

_My mothers eyes showed one emotion that I never knew she felt;_

_Fear._

I bolted upright and instantly felt my chest begin to throb. A cold metal slab was still in my hand- and I realized soon enough it was my gun.

"Stay still," someone said. "Here, drink this."

They handed me a golden goblet filled with clear liquid. The colors in it changed and the smell was familiar. _Nectar. _

"I can't drink this," I told them, trying to give it back. "I'm no half-blood."

The person chuckled. "Oh, you are."

"No," I said sternly, looking up. I met a pair of dazzling brown eyes, and looked away. It was a boy. "I'm not."

"You are," he pressed. "No one can defeat the Minotaur unless-"

"I know, unless they're _half god. _But I'm telling you now, I'm not one." I tried sitting up but my ribs felt like death. "Gah. Do you have any painkillers around here?"

The boy shook his head.

"Pass me my bag," I said.

"Can't let you take any medicine from the outside world, sorry."

"Who said I was going to?" I scowled, which made him smirk.

He held his hand out. "Adam," he said. I shook his hand warily. "I'm guessing your Alexis?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Ah, your parents made history here." Adam stated. "Percy and Annabeth Jackson?"

"Chase," I corrected him. "They've... they've divorced."

"I know," he said, as if he'd heard it a million times before. "But it still makes you a half-blood."

I rolled my eyes and looked at my arms. Needles were injected in my veins, and I knew that it couldn't hurt to pullt hem out. Just as I was about to, Adam spoke again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Do what?"

"Pull them out," he said. "Those needles are connected to your basilic veins. Pulling them out would just thicken the blood in your arm."

"Lies." I sighed. "I've done this plenty of times before."

"Yeah, but with iron needles. Those are crafted with celestial bronze. They connect to the basilic veins very well, so they can't be pulled out. Unless," he swirled the goblet of nectar and gave me a knowing look.

I stopped the urge to roll my eyes and took the goblet from him. "If I burn to ashes, it's your fault."

"I'll be there at your funeral," he joked, a slight smile on his face. I took a sip and instantly felt my bones become stronger, my memories become even less clouded.

"So where am I?" I asked him, putting the goblet down on the table next to me.

"You, my friend," Adam said. "Are at Camp Half-Blood. Welcome home."

* * *

**What do you guys think of Adam? I honestly don't know whether to add "romance" between him and Alexis. This story was supposed to be about "Healing Percabeth" (hence the title) but I guess even Alexis can get distracted xD Idk. It's you guys' opinion :D**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

I stared at Adam like _he _was the one found passed out on the street. "It can't be." I said. "I only traveled a few hours-"

"Camp Half Blood moves around alot," he confessed. "It's a good way to fend off the monsters."

"What's it doing in Emerald Street?"

"It's not," he laughed. "Look outside."

So I did. And I really wished I had earlier.

Outside, the weather was beautiful. The trees were a luscious green and the river flow was a sparkling blue- And no, not transparent blue- a bright blue, as if someone had dumped buckets of blue food coloring into the lake. This certainly wasn't New York.

"How did I...?"

"Dhillon bought you here." he muttered, and I could tell that this "Dhillon" guy wasn't on Adam's friend list.

"Dhillon?"

"Son of Aphrodite," he said. "The boy thinks he's the best."

I was about to give him a snarky remark about how _he _was no different, but I figured it could wait. "So the boundaries..."

"Don't keep your hopes up, princess. You're locked in this camp for as long as Chiron wants you to be."

I groaned. "Great."

Adam grinned and held his hand out. "C'mon, I wanna show you around."

I was three percent sure that the rest of CHB would be a dump compared to the fields outside- but I was proven wrong, yet again. The cabins stood proud, all formed in a U around a campfire hearth. I stole a quick glance at the Poseidon cabin and found it empty. Not that I was expecting any different.

The sons of Apollo were at the shooting range, sheaths of arrows on their backs and numerous bows at their side. I saw a guy with a sparkling yellow arrow, either poisoned or enchanted, I didn't want to know.

Adam took me to the canteen, were numerous long tables were placed. Half of them had a few campers occupied, whilst the rest were empty. I glanced at the Athena table. Three boys, two girls.

The Poseidon table had no-one, and I figured that it never did.

"So," started Adam, momentarily snapping me out of my daydream. "Have you been claimed yet?"

_Not this again._

"No."

"Oh, why?"

"I don't know."

"You should."

"Well, I _don't_!" I snapped, attracting the attention of a few Hephaestus campers. "Like I told you, I'm no demigod."

"By blood you are."

"Doesn't mean I'll get claimed," I murmured. It was true, in my opinion. I was the daughter of two demigods, meaning I should never have been born in the first place. It would only cause hassle- like right now.

Adam said nothing, and I thought that I had crossed the line by being so grumpy. After a couple of seconds, I heard him sigh. "C'mon. We need to find Chiron. Log you in."

"Wait a minute," I said. "I'm not staying."

He scoffed. "Of course you are. It's no bargain, alright? You're a demigod, this is where you belong."

_I belong here like gym socks in a Prada bag. _I thought.

Adam led me to the Big House, which looked no different in pictures. A couple of campers ran past me, some twelve years old, others up to eighteen. They wore orange Camp Half Blood shirts and necklaces with numerous amounts of beads on, bangles and other decorative accessories that looked handmade.

"Chiron?" Adam yelled, putting his hands over his mouth to project the noise. It was then that I realized how well built the boy actually was- not that I cared, but still.

"In here, boy."

Adam pulled me into a compact office and shut the door. Shelves were stacked high with numerous amounts of books, poetry novels, even handwritten scrolls.

"We have a new camper." he said. "Alex Jackson."

Chiron looked up from his desk, and I soon realized that half of his body was packed tight in a wheelchair. He smiled. "Ah, yes. Daughter of...?"

"Annabeth Chase." I answered.

"I'm assuming Percy's one, as well?" he raised a knowing eyebrow. I nodded sheepishly.

Before Chiron could ask the question I'd been dreading, Adam started talking. "She hasn't been claimed yet."

"I see."

Chiron made a gesture to follow him, so I did. Adam reluctantly trailed behind, hands stuffed in his pockets. He could pass as a son of Ares, eyes sparking with dangerous fire, even though they were a dark blue. Maybe a son of Hermes, because he looked the type to pick pockets and steal other kids lunch money. I decided not to judge him too much by what he looked like.

I passed though more bookshelves and noticed that the floor, too, had scattered books. Chiron had to wheel himself very carefully around the hardbacks, instead of picking them up and stashing them away carefully.

"Here, child." he said. Adam and I walked into a room - or, more like an indoor stadium - filled with pictures and statues of the gods. Underneath every statue was a celestial bronze plate, Roman and Greek names engraved in each and every one of them. The walls glimmered and sparkled, as if they were hit with natural sunlight.

"Woah."

"Woah."

"Indeed." Chiron said, staring with an amused look at me and Adams gaping mouths. "We rarely take campers in here, only if they haven't been claimed by the age of thirteen."

"How is this going to help me, exactly?" I asked, scanning the room. Every God had their own polished podium, and their statues loomed like thirty foot tall giants in the air. They weren't very menacing, these gigantic marble figures, but it still made my stomach clench with unease.

Chiron started talking about how every Camper who came into the room had been claimed nearly straight away, and how any second I would soon be marked as Athena or Poseidon's granddaughter. I tuned out after the first two sentences.

I studied the statues very carefully, starting with Zeus and ending with Hecate.

That's when I noticed something. And so did Adam, because he didn't hesitate to follow me when I rushed over to the _only _empty podium. It stood, covered in dust, next to Hecate's statue. The bronze plate was covered in a decades worth of dust, so I wiped it vigorously with the sleeve of my hoodie.

I read the plate and my heart stopped.

Hoping it was a mistake, I wiped the second half and choked back a gasp.

_Percy Jackson  
Sworn A God  
Offered Immortality At The Age Of 16  
Accepted Offer June 12th, 2020._

* * *

**I think I might have gotten my maths wrong.**

**Percy was 12 in the first book, and it was published in 2005.  
He was 16 when he was offered Immortality, so four years later must mean he was offered it in 2009.  
Him and Annabeth left CHB 3 years later, and that's when Alexis was born (2012).  
They divorced when Alexis was 8 - 2020.  
**

**THAT WAS HARD MATHS OMGS.  
Thanks for reading :)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Holy Hera," muttered Adam. "You're dad's a God."

_My dad's a God._

I sunk to the floor, my heart beating like it was at a loss for blood.

Someone placed their hand on my shoulder. It was Chiron, and the gesture was meant to be comforting, but in that moment I felt anything but comfort. "Alexis..."

"No," I whispered, shaking. "No!"

My fists clenched and suddenly all sense of sorrow washed out of me- Every bit of grief, every ounce of love I had towards my father. Everything was replaced with a vicious wave of anger and regret. Pain. Agitation. My limbs felt week but my expression radiated hatred.

It was true, then. He didn't want me and mom in his lives. He was probably in Olympus right now, with an immortal wife that morphed herself into my dads specific idea of beauty. He probably even has an immortal Goddess for a daughter - A flawless girl who wore make up and got straight A's. Maybe she was the complete opposite of me. Maybe she was social. Maybe she never argued.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to cry. Tears ran down my cheeks and I wiped them furiously with the palm of my hand. I had no idea how long I was there, or how long I was sobbing.

_Stop it! _I scolded myself. _Stop it, you look stupid!_

My legs were shaking when I finally decided to stand up. Adam was looking at me, but it wasn't a deceitful smirk like the ones he'd given me earlier. This one was filled with pity, sympathy. Two things that made me feel vulnerable.

Suddenly, a bell rang and the noise of a human stampede started filling the camp. "You two better get going," suggested Chiron, in the nicest way possible. "This would be your first Campfire, Alex. You were probably too young to remember your other one. Wouldn't want to miss it."

I'd have given anything not to go, but Chiron sounded like it was the only thing he could think of to brighten my mood. I nodded and him a small smile, before letting Adam lead me out. My cheeks were still stained with tears and I kept my head down, fearing that the other campers would see how much of a wreck I was.

"It's not your fault," Adam said, quietly. He turned around and I realized how tall he actually was. "It was your dads decision."

I said nothing, and he understood what I wanted. Silence. It was the only thing that was helping me to stay together, to not have a breakdown in the midst of over 250 campers.

On the way to the Campfire, I stopped. Everyone was singing, the Apollo cabin leading the song with numerous haiku's that didn't seem to make any sense. Adam turned around and raised an eyebrow at me. "You okay?"

I was about to shake my head, when I realized.

If I was going to stay here, I would have to make some friends. There was no way I'd be going back home just to inform my mom that dad had become immortal. I couldn't even handle the news myself without wanting to jump into Tartarus, let alone emotionally kill my mother.

So I nodded. And I forced a smile so fake that even Adam didn't look convinced.

We made our way towards the Campfire set up, and sat next to two boys with jet black hair and deep brown eyes. "This is Kyle and Rodney," he said. "My half brothers."

"Hi." I murmured. The two boys looked at me, as if deciding whether or not I was friendly or hostile. After a couple of seconds, they both slightly smiled and nodded, immediately fixing their eyes on the campfire.

Adam and I sat on a log away from the other campers. I started pulling grass from the floor and so did he.

We didn't talk for a while, which I was fine with.

"You feeling better?"

"Kinda." I answered. And to be truthful, I was. "So who's your godly parent?"

Adam laughed. "Enyo."

"As in, twin sister of Ares?"

"If you wanna talk like that, yeah. She hates him though. Can't really blame her. The guy is basically death in a human body."

I giggled. Adam smiled and we carried on talking. His dad was a businessman who decided to go out one night for a celebration party, and that's where he met Adam's mom. "They hit it off for a year. Then my mom had me."

"Wouldn't your dad have been happy?"

Adam scoffed. "Yeah, right. The minute Enyo told him, he forced her to pack a bag and leave."

"Harsh." I admitted. He nodded, looking like he was used to it, and glanced over his shoulder. "You sure you don't wanna be at the Campfire?"

I looked towards the hearth and saw a couple of Ares kids shouting at each other about curses and quests. I winced every time the counselor talked.

"I'm sure."

* * *

The next day I woke up in a cabin that housed light blue _everything. _The couches, the sinks, the fridge, the beds- Or, rather, the _bed, - _Every single thing was a different shade of light blue.

I had a feeling it was the Poseidon cabin, but as I toured the house even more, I figured I was wrong. Right in the middle of the cabins "living room", stood a tall statue of a boy my age, a meter long sword in his hand. You wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a normal sword and the one the boy was holding, since the whole thing was made of marble, but in the bright sunlight I could see one word etched on the handle: _Anaklusmos._

I gritted my teeth and tried not to slash the head off of the statue. Instead, I did the only thing I could think of; I dragged a spare bed sheet from the cupboard and threw it over my dads marble head.

Feeling like I accomplished something, I marched into the bathroom and started getting ready.

_How long are you planning to stay here? _Am I seriously talking to myself again?

_Oh please. Without me you'd be nowhere._ Are you like that annoying devil on my shoulder that tries to tempt me into exile?

_I would be, if you had half the wits. _I'm the granddaughter of Athena, just remember that.

_Whatever. _Indeed.

_When are you going? _I need some time to think.

_How long? Your dads probably in Olympus right now smooching another woman, and you're too busy listening to Adam talk about his mom. _I'll go tomorrow.

_Tomorrow might be too late. _It won't be. I've waited eight years, I'm sure the possibility of finding Percy can wait another day.

_Oh, so you're calling him "Percy" now? _It's not like he's much of a father figure now, is it?

_Yeah, yeah. Just get that bath ready and hurry up. Twenty minutes until Adam knocks on your door. _You mean our door?

_Just hurry up! _

I finished getting ready and spent approximately ten minutes deciding if I should line my eyes or not. Within no time, someone started knocking on the door and I thought about listening to my inner self more often.

Adam was there, dressed in an orange Camp Half Blood shirt and jeans. He was leaning on the door frame and grinned when he saw me. "So, how was your sleep?"

"Could have been better." I answered, truthfully. Last night I couldn't stop tossing and turning, waking up every so often to the sound of Harpies. "What are you doing here?"

"My own cabin got boring," he flashed yet another cheeky smile and ruffled his hair. "May I come in?"

I didn't see why not, so I let him. I silently thanked the gods that everything was tidy- No clothes or sweet wrappers strewn across the floor. My gun and bullets were placed in an intricate glass case.

"Sweet," Adam said, glancing around the room. His eyes caught the statue of my dad and he laughed. "I'm guessing you and him aren't close?"

"Not one bit."

"Ah," he slid a dagger from his tool bet and absentmindedly started playing with it. "So you decide to place a white sheet over his face?"

"Head, actually." I smiled. I stood next to him and we stared at the statue, him gazing at it, me glaring.

After a few moments, Adam started climbing the marble (which wasn't hard, since everything was carved so intricately that it provided ledges). He moved the sheet, trying to cling on with his right arm. "Don't take it off!" I obliged, but he kept going. I wondered what he was trying to do, until I saw him yank a white piece of paper from the statue's arm.

"I wasn't going- Whoa!" he clung onto one of the carved ledges- my dads hood. He jumped to the base and winced as his knees came into contact with solid marble.

"What did you do?" I asked, a little bewildered that he even noticed something was there.

"I think this is for you." Adam answered, sliding the paper into my hand. Suddenly, a shrill bell rang and the doors to the Percy Jackson cabin burst open. I stuffed the paper into my jean pocket and stared back at a blonde girl.

"Adam, sweetie," she said, fluttering her eyelashes. "Breakfast."

_Hey, it's a child of Aphrodite! _You don't say...

_Aunt Piper can charmspeak. Do you think she can?_

Adam just stared at her with tired eyes. "Okay." He didn't move, and glanced at me like he was still expecting me to read the paper. The girl looked at him with a demanding look.

"Adam!" she snapped. "Come on!"

_I don't think she can. _

"In a bit," he waved her off. The blonde stomped her foot and stormed down the cabin steps, anger and glamour radiating in the trail she left behind.

_She can't._

"Who was that?" I asked, an eyebrow raised. Adam shrugged.

"Someone. C'mon, it's breakfast and I'm hungry." I followed him out of the cabin, but I could tell that the girl was more than just a "someone" to him.

The dining area had been as empty as it was before. Most of the campers were at schools, or Universities. Other campers from different countries were away spending time with their loved ones before spending six weeks of training at Camp Half Blood. Australian demigods, African half bloods, even British. Adam told me that we had dozens of British campers, but most of them had picked up the American accent already, so it was hard to hear a British Half Blood charge into battle yelling, "For Tea!" or something liberally challenged that us Americans just wouldn't get.

We sat on my table, ordering the bowls in front of us to pile up with our favorite breakfast food. I have fruit loops with extra sugar, Adam had a mixture of ever colorful cereal combined.

Even though it was just breakfast, and most of the campers were grouchy and tired, Chiron insisted we burn some sort of offering to the Gods. Adam came up to the bronze barrier and dumped half of his cereal in, muttering a small prayer. Maybe to Enyo or Ares, but I didn't ask. The flames turned a beautiful color of red, and I figured Enyo was listening.

I came up to the barrier, still munching on my cereal, and started thinking. There was _no _way I was wasting a bowl of sugar intoxicated food just to get my dad to notice me. So instead, I threw a plastic spoon into the hearth, muttering the name, "Perseus Jackson".

And dad didn't like it.  
Not. One. Bit.

The flames turned into a sea green color at first. Then it darkened. It became a darker shade of black, if that was even possible. It turned into a disgusting navy blue, then morphed into purple and brown sludge.

After a while, it stayed that color. No other offering from the other campers could make it go away. Not even Chiron's twelve offerings, one for each Olympian god.

I had angered my dad, and possibly the other Olympians.

Just by throwing a white plastic spoon into a circle of fire.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :)  
I will try and post every single day, I can't believe I got 10 reviews just for one chapter, you guys are amazing :) **


	7. Chapter 7

Adam had to hold me back from attacking my fathers statue.

The fire earlier on that day was just a small event. Diana, the blonde daughter of Aphrodite, had sacrificed her "new" Gucci earrings just to make the flames turn a pale color of pink. It stayed like that for approximately seven seconds, until it transformed back into a dark array of colors. She blamed it on me, and when she stepped in some dog waste later on in the day, she made sure that the Percy Jackson cabin had an angry blonde knocking furiously on the door.

Chiron never trusted me with plastic spoons, and Adam made sure I had any other kitchen utensils other than a spoon. I had, undoubtedly, started a "Spoon Trend".

I decided that it wasn't that bad. Compared to the amount of trouble I got myself into at Withmoore and the other previous boarding schools, this was just a minor setback.

Or so I _thought. _

Chiron called me in later on that day with an indescribable look on his face. He didn't seem angry, or fed up, but he looked very disappointed. His trusty wheelchair was nowhere to be seen, so his other half (a white stallion) stood proudly and clip-clopped around the room.

"I have received numerous Iris Messages from Olympus, Alexis." he said, wringing his hands together. "You're little... stunt, it... Well, it sparked up alot of arguments."

"It was a plastic spoon!" I argued. The Spoon Trend was going great so far. Some of the Hephaestus campers even fashioned me one out of a bronze block, telling me to guard it well- Although I didn't see how it could be useful, but at least I would look sophisticated eating my bowl of fruit loops the next day.

"It was an insult," he corrected. "The Gods do not like to be disrespected. One minor say, one minor thought, can set them off. They can close Olympus, suddenly stop trying to help us."

"And what would they say?" I pressed. "That a sixteen year old girl disrespected them by offering a cheap recycled utensil?"

"Alexis, I don't think you're getting the point."

"I bet it was cursed," I said. "A cursed spoon. They have those, don't they?"

"Alex-"

"Chiron," I interrupted. "All I did was chuck a spoon into the hearth. It's not like I chanted some ceremonial poem of hatred."

The old centaur sighed, like he was getting tired of the conversation at hand. "I just want you to know the boundaries we have here. This isn't Withmoore, or Rock Academy, Alexis. We have rules, and campers tend to stick to them. I suggest you do the same."

I thought about it, and the more I did, the more I hated the idea.

Withmoore had been alright. I made a few friends, a lot of new enemies, but at least I was accepted. It wasn't really that bad, even though I'd never admit it. Rock Academy was where the fun was at, however.

There were no rules. Teenagers _made _the rules, sculpted the entire student body into their form of perfection. Teachers had no say, the Principal was mostly locked up in his office trying to balance financial work with his personal life. Rock Academy, though, was centered around one thing; Music.

I loved it. I used to play the guitar, until Tom made me throw out my old set because he'd _promised _to buy me a new one. He never did, and that was a year ago. I was happy at Rock Academy- Until the incident with the water pipes. Someone had blamed it on me, and other people were convinced I did it, even though there was no proof. But RA already had a bad reputation, so they kicked me out. Said they didn't want a troubled kid like me destroying the instruments because of my fascination with water. I said okay, cool, I was absolutely _fine _with that. I came home with a crushed expression that day.

"Okay," I muttered. "But I make no promises."

The corners of Chiron's mouth upturned and it was nice to see him smiling for once. He gently ruffled my hair and chuckled.

"That's great. Now run along, I think Adam is waiting for you outside."

I walked out of the Big House just to be greeted by a snarling Diana.

Now, if you've never been in the presence of an Aphrodite kid, you obviously haven't felt true sickness. First off, they wear so much perfume it's hard to decide whether or not it smells good, messing up your natural thoughts and leaving you as air-headed as some of their siblings. Second, they wear heels so high it's hard to look them directly in the eyes without having to stand on the tips of your toes.

Luckily enough, Diana was wearing Prada sandals that looked like they cost more than Tom's precious Ferrari.

She grimaced when she saw me. "Urgh. It's the _spoon _girl."

"Nice to see you too."

"You should have never come here. You don't _belong._" Diana tossed her sickly yellow hair and flashed a fake, lipstick covered smile.

"Right. Because _your _mom defeated a titan lord at the age of sixteen. Oh wait, that was Percy Jackson, _my _godly parent." I snapped. I nearly lost it at the last two words, but quickly shook it off. For a second she looked taken aback, like she was trying to register what I had just said.

"I hope whatever quest Chiron gives you-"

"Fails?" I raised an eyebrow. "_I_ hope you fall off a horse."

Diana gasped, but it came out so high pitched that it could have passed for a mouse's battle cry. "Whatever. I simply have no time to talk to you. Move." I didn't budge, so she stomped her Prada infested feet and skirted around me. I heard the words "peasant" and "those shoes were so last minute" before she disappeared into the Big House.

I walked back to my cabin, completely forgetting that Adam wanted to see me, and plopped down on the couch.

Dad's statue stared at me. No, he wasn't staring- This time, he was full on glaring. "Don't look at me like that," I murmured. "This isn't all my fault."

It glared down at me even more.

"You know, you've always been my hero." I snapped, but my voice quivered, as if he was actually there. "I've always looked up to you. Every birthday I wished for you to come back. Every single day, I half expected you to be singing in the shower or trying to make mom smile."

Silence.

"She's found a new guy, you know. Tom. And you know what? He's nice. He never leaves us. He _cares _about us," I stated, my mouth dry. I left out my dream about Tom slapping mom, and the fact that he called me a brat. "What have _you_ done, huh? Nothing. And I'm sick of you. Mom's sick of you. Uncle Luke was right. All Gods are the same. _Selfish._" And with that, I walked briskly out of the living and slammed the bedroom door shut.

* * *

The evening was pretty good, for me anyway. I had a bucket of ice cream and blue lemonade at my side, trying to figure out how to wire the TV. Camp Half Blood had progressed massively since my parents were here, with new electronics that had dubbed signal. The only thing the camp needed was Wi-Fi, but that was trickier to disguise, so we settled for televisions and DVDs.

I flicked through some of the movies that were already stashed in the cabin. Most of them were old chick flicks, romantic comedies, documentaries- The kind of stuff mom liked. There was one about the Savannah rain forests, and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn't seen or heard of Uncle Grover since I left home. If anyone other than my mom deserved to know where I was, it would be him.

I scoured the rest of the DVD's and chose one that came out seventeen years ago. My mom always told me about it, but we never got to watch it because Tom said it was too complex for children.

The case of "Perks Of Being A Wallflower" looked very old, and very worn out. I started to wonder why it was such an important movie to my mom, because my dad never seemed to take much interest in it.

As the movie started playing, I realized that I related to the main character quite a lot. We were both outcasts, thrown into a world where no-one knew best. There was only one thing different.

He could fix his problem.

_I_ couldn't.

It turned out amazingly for him in the end. Sure, he still had over a thousand days to go before he was _finally _free. But where did it end for me? When did it all stop?

I wasn't in High School anymore, trying to find the correct classes and attempting to make new friends. No, I was in Camp Half Blood, trying to fix every single problem at once, searching for a happy ending that was most likely never to happen.

I sighed.

The bronze spoon dug into my hip, and I yanked it out of my pocket. It glimmered and glowed in the light provided by the TV. I set it down carefully on the coffee table and watched as a small piece of paper fluttered away from it. I had completely forgotten that Adam was so eager for me to read it. I hurriedly unscrambled the paper.

_I'm on the 600th Floor, Empire State Building.  
I miss you babygirl.  
_

* * *

The whole camp was asleep. Even the Harpies were lounging about, caring less and less about their "oh-so-important" job as the nights went by. Curfew had become easier to break, and for this particular night, I was overjoyed about that.

My purple duffle bag was packed with healing equipment and food given to me by some of the Apollo campers. Dhillon, the boy who had carried me into Camp Half Blood just days before, gave me a variety of different shaped celestial bronze bullets. He asked for a kiss when he gave them to me, and in return I told him that if I ever came back, I'd think about it. He seemed happy enough with the answer.

I wanted to leave the bronze spoon with the Hephaestus campers, something to remember me by, but they insisted I took it with me, claiming that it would probably do me some good in the future. I said thanks, and that if I ever ran into any bowls of unattended fruit loops, I'd give the spoon something to do. Most of them grinned and gave me a hug goodbye, the others told me that it was a deadly weapon and not to be played with.

Clarisse's scrapbook and drachma's were stashed safely in the bag, and I was suddenly wondering why I never showed it to Adam or Chiron.

_Adam._

I somehow convinced everyone not to tell him where I was going. Even Diana, though I had to give her my eyeliner and a few drachmas. She took them happily and pretended to zip her lips, then went away, muttering things about the eyeliner pen and holding it up like it was a godly object. I rolled my eyes and pretended not to notice when she tripped over a rock, before picking herself back up and praising the pen once more.

My gun and its original bullets were in the pocket of my hoodie, prepped and ready to be used. One of the campers from the Hermes cabin gave a box of ambrosia squares and admitted that they were stolen, but I was still grateful. She also gave me three more additional bullets, each one spraying a different type of poison when released. I gave her a hug and promised that I'd teach her how to shoot when I came back.

_**If** you ever come back._

I had no idea where Camp Half Blood even was, so finding the way out was hard enough. I looked up at the pillars that held the CHB sign, and sighed.

"Bye, guys."

Satisfied, I disappeared into the woods and groaned inwardly.

_Great. Back at square one. _

* * *

**Thanks for reading :)**


End file.
